Traveling With Abraham
by death-in-the-orchard
Summary: Abraham Van Hellsing's time: A light, warm, and fuzzy – and miniature – chronicle of Abraham's comings and goings, his everyday moments, and his accompanying vampire who makes those moments awkward and exhausting.
1. Chapter 1

Abraham was awakened by the banging of the broom in the hallway outside his door. The scuffling of shoes and the half stifled yelps and complaints of the woman who had been sweeping the narrow corridor of the inn's second floor, further awakened the man who sat up lethargically, slowly reclaiming his normal awareness of things about him. And he looked to the wall when the woman exclaimed something under her breath, and the broom began to jab at the floorboards, and then swept roughly along the wall. He knew this from the sounds of bristles and of wood scraping against wood, "Git, git you little beast! Hang the man who let you in! Git-! Oh no, no no you won't crawl back there, little beastie. I'll drown you in my mop bucket, I will! Don't you tempt me!"

The man seated in bed yawned extensively and then stretched his arms. Feeling good, Abraham smiled as he looked over his curtained window, and saw daylight. No, it wasn't daylight. It was twilight, though the sun was still strong. Abraham threw open the curtains to be sure, and he pulled up the window mere inches before slamming it shut once more, the cold having nipped his fingers. But in the process, he crushed one of those unfortunate fingers. Cross with this unpleasant development, Abraham stepped aside and about aimlessly, wringing his hand and cringing until he resorted to sucking on the finger, now frowning with a furrowed brow and a much less than cheerful mood. Popping the finger free from his mouth, Abraham grumbled, seemingly to himself, "We'll leave now. It's too late for supper, of course. But we'll both go hungry tonight."

Abraham was standing beside his bed, but he stepped towards the pair of not so clean boots which were stationed at the foot of this piece of sleepy furniture. Thinking he was going to yawn again, the man wasted a few seconds doing nothing before he gave up on the yawn; Abraham returned the throbbing finger to his mouth tiredly, his expression dull though the sleep had been removed by his pain. His mouth bent in an angular frown, and his brow folded as he suddenly dropped to a crouch, looking hard at one boot in particular. He leaned at a slant to check his left boot briefly, then frowned at the right boot. Twitching his nose, Abraham sniffed. He removed his finger and wiped it on the trousers he had slept in, not quite comfortably, and then he clicked his tongue as he set to work a bit sluggishly.

Pulling at the tongue of the boot, Abraham searched the interior, looking rather befuddled as he sighed and sat on the floor, bending forward to pull the boot into his lap. He tugged at the sides and the tongue, and then stuffed his hand deep inside, wincing as he tried to wiggle his fingers towards the toe. Finally reaching it, his moment of accomplishment flared in his suddenly blazing blue eyes, and Abraham grinned automatically, victoriously, before all sense of self-worth deflated as he poked and prodded at the soft mass of his sock, and he pulled it out to frown at the disappointing garment. He unraveled and flattened the sock before draping it over his leg.

With the boot in his lap and the sock on his leg, Abraham looked from one to the other, unhappy with both. And he glanced up towards his door, where, farther down the hallway, the woman hissed and growled over the sloshing slaps of water in her mop bucket.

Abandoning his boot and sock, letting them fall to the floor, Abraham entered the hallway barefoot, in just his shirt and wrinkled trousers. His long stride connected with the chill floor, making him wince as the cold steadily sunk into his toes. But he spoke to the woman who would not have otherwise noticed him, struggling as she was with her mop bucket, her hand tucked into a large brush which she was using to battle with the fretful water.

"Ah, ah, excuse me." He was looking at the water, his brow pinched with embarrassed concern. The woman stared at him, lips parted and mute as she saw his attire. She noted in amazement, the three undone buttons which descended, quite immodestly, towards a well-shaped chest. And the immodest, not-fully-dressed man bent over her bucket and grimaced at the thrashing which continued under the murky surface of swirling dirty contents. Casting hasty glances at the bewildered woman's face, Abraham murmured sincere apologies, "I believe, I believe this is mine."

With a moment's hesitation, his hand lowering over the bucket and then drawing back slightly when he saw that the woman's brush was in the way, Abraham pursed his lips and decided against the awkwardness of asking the woman to move, and so shoved his arm into the sloppy water, down under the brush, where he hit the bottom of the bucket. Just as he could feel the drowning thing grasping at his wrist and fingers, Abraham drew in a sharp breath and shut his eyes tightly, regretting the cold and uncleanly water that now soaked his sleeve. Oh well.

Roughly fishing around in the bucket for a mortifying period that felt five times longer than it had been, with the woman's gape above him, Abraham finally pulled out the streaming mass once the woman had removed the brush as she stumbled back, becoming abruptly aware of her hindrance. Abraham could see that his behavior had shocked her, though he hoped she would not be further upset by the unfortunate fact that his arm and captured vermin were currently streaming filthy water onto her partially swept floor.

His head and neck hot, and perspiration beading on his back, Abraham smiled at the woman whose job he had made infinitely more difficult. And he laughed hollowly as he met her stare with an unnatural, and extremely uncomfortable, stiffness. "Yes, well then. Good morning- evening. I'll be packing to leave. You don't need to go through the trouble of telling me when the cab has arrived… I'll wait outside for it."

And he strode back to his room, hearing the water fall in his wake, with his cold feet now uncomfortably damp as well, he did not breathe normally until he had shut the bedroom door and his back landed against it, forcing out the relief he had finally attained. Swallowing and scanning the empty room, finding the boot lying on its side and the sock beside it, Abraham simply breathed and listened to the water that continued to drip onto the floor. A puddle formed against his bare foot, and his first thought was that he had nothing with which to clean it.

When the wet thing in his hand started swinging as it squirmed, Abraham finally looked down at the vermin and lifted it higher so he could inspect the filthy state of the creature. But the small thing suddenly spread out its wings and flapped furiously, making Abraham hit his head against the door as he tried to dodge the flinging water and debris. His eyes shut tight, Abraham held the bat away from himself, but once Alucard had finished attempting to dry bits of his fur and had folded the wings away, the displeased master yanked the damp furry thing towards his glaring eyes and bitter scowl.

"I never gave you permission to leave, you wretched, wretched-" he shook the bat as it swung with its feet clenched in Abraham's fist, "-stupid vampire. Foolish, _stupid_ vampire!" He growled as he marched to his bed and to the fallen boot. Abraham sat on the cold floorboards, huffing in anger, glaring again at the bat he brought to eye-level, and then dropped his fist to the floor, where Alucard crumbled like a dirty rag under his knuckles. His free hand tugging the boot into his lap, Abraham muttered in German, shoving his arm into the boot with difficulty (being one handed) and then scowling angrily at himself when he realized he'd already removed the sock. But as he snatched up the sock he'd sat on, Abraham suddenly threw both of his hands into the hard wood floor as he looked directly up at the ceiling with a vexed groan. The sock faired better than the wet bat, as the sock was released and left alone, while Alucard was ripped back into the air and sung about violently. The black raggedy body stilled in front of the aggravated features of his master Van Hellsing. "You're wet! All wet! Where will I keep you now, huh? Where?"

Abraham scowled and suddenly grabbed his boot and tossed it to the side. It banged into the floor loudly. "What? I can't put you back in there, you'd get it wet." He flung the sock after the boot. "And this, you'd get it wet." He sighed and shifted about so he could cross his legs and rest his cheek against his fist as he thought. Staring at his bed, the comforter and its worn dye, he let his bat-filled hand hang off of his other knee, which shoved Alucard's snout directly into the man's damp, cold, and dirty toes.

There was squirming before an upset flurry of wings got the unmindful master to pull the vampire up once more, and Abraham snorted and smirked as he could almost see Dracula's rage in the beastly features that glowered at him. Alucard wrapped his wings about himself and tucked his snout against his chest, so as to sharpen his glare. Which only caused Abraham to snort a second time, amused as he now purposely bobbed the bat's head into and away from his foot. With each lowering and raising of the creature, the wings became more unraveled, then more spread, then they flapped as the furry body rotated back and forth while it dangled from Abraham's clenched hand. Teeth were barred as the sharp bat fangs hissed.

Abraham grew bored, and he looked about himself to decide where to put the soggy creature, finally resorting to the cold floor itself, having no better place. He leaned back with his hands behind him, sighing once more, as in the window his 'morning' darkened into night. Idly, Abraham watched Alucard flail like an overturned hamster and then flip himself onto his stomach, composing himself with agitated movements. Then the bat sat there, compressing itself into the minimal amount of space it could occupy. This posture said, I don't want to be here, so I'm going to make it look like I'm not here (or at least try to).

"I don't want you in my coat," Abraham watched the black ears twitch and then rotate, alert and searching, "You're wet, and you're filthy." Abraham lifted his soiled, clinging sleeve, which was freezing and he had no clean spare. But something smelly would be an improvement to wet, cold, and gritty. "And look at this, look at what I've got to deal with now. I should've let you drown in the mop bucket, you stupid, stupid vampire."

But they sat in quiet, doing nothing, Abraham not packing his things as he'd said he would; he hadn't unpacked anything when they'd arrived earlier that morning, closer to noon. All he needed to do was dress himself, then all his possessions would be collected. And this little bugger here, Abraham smirked at the compressed bat, with his wet spiked and disheveled fur, this little fool. Abraham let out a hearty laugh, warming as he let himself enjoy the memory now that the awful moment had passed. Alucard started and the scrunched wings moved restlessly before the bat compressed himself again, his head low and his ears revolving constantly.

"If you could have died in that bucket!" Abraham made himself laugh, and he almost rubbed his face with his wet sleeve, but he caught himself and switched to the other. Chuckling, the man pushed himself up from the floor and went over to his luggage, where he unsnapped a few buckles and drew out the shirt he had worn two days ago, for a period of three days. He was in desperate need of a return visit home, if only to look respectable and not offend his patrons with his appearance and odor.


	2. Chapter 2

It was much easier to feed Alucard when he was so small. Abraham sat in the back of the cab, the driver busy with his horses and other traffic in the streets of London. On his leg, the little furry bat was neatly compressed as its mouth quickly absorbed what had been a bead of blood on the tip of Abraham's finger.

Abraham had pricked himself with a safety pin he kept fasted inside his coat whenever he was traveling with the vampire. He squeezed and pressed on his finger to form another bead of blood, and then returned it to the bat –but quickly drew it away. Lifting his hand, Abraham moved it right, left, up, towards the bat but then whipped it away again with a muted chuckle.

The man continued to move the bead of blood as Alucard's head jerked in every direction it took. Eventually reason conquered hunger, and something like pride or dignity made the bat sit very still and stare at his cheerful master crossly.


	3. Chapter 3

*~*~::..+..::~*~*

Abraham hadn't been to his home in London since the previous winter. And he stepped through the front door with a smile, looking around himself, pleased with the warmth and comfort as he dragged off his scarf, totally oblivious to the way the maid who'd let him in scurried off like a startled mouse. Abraham stopped pulling on the scarf so it hung loosely from his neck when he beamed lovingly at the figure that appeared before him, though she stood a ways off and wasn't coming any nearer.

"Liz, my dear! I missed you-" He walked towards the figure, but a stiff hand was held out, as she signaled for him to halt. He obeyed, though unhappily. In the quiet, Abraham fidgeted, played with his scarf, and then his coat. He looked at her again, and smiled anxiously, "I love you."

"You." Her dead voice stole the man's smile, and Elizabeth looked at her husband with a stony, unfeeling expression. "Mr. Van Hellsing."

"Yes, Mrs. Van Hellsing?"

Abraham frowned sadly as the halting hand shot towards him again, and he dropped his playful tone and took on a solemn expression. Then he waited to see if she liked this expression. She didn't.

"You and your vampires. And your _Alucard_." As Elizabeth scoffed, Abraham flinched and lowered his head with dread weighing down his crumpled frown. "You should have married your _Alucard_ , seeing as you can never bear to part with him. Unlike your family."

Abraham sighed and stepped forward, arms already open. He hugged his wife, who turned her head away from a nearly successful kiss. Abraham kissed her eyebrow, then her temple, and her cheek, and when he reached her neck the woman pushed him away. He chuckled light heartedly as she gave him a disapproving scowl. None of the house staff had lingered after Abraham had been welcomed through the front door. "I love you, my Liza."

She growled but her glare wasn't cold. "You missed my birthday."

"No I didn't. Your birthday is the day after tomorrow." He smiled as he successfully evaded her trap. And at this she lost her glower, and assumed a bored air about her. She sighed, as though she were dealing with their son. And he was barely walking.

Abraham hadn't seen Arthur in three weeks. Elizabeth had only recently moved back to the London home, given that it was much smaller and the air wasn't very good for their sickly little boy. She had returned in order to visit friends and to allow her mother to see her grandson. Van Hellsing's mother-in-law absolutely refused to return to the Hellsing manor. She'd been introduced to the Vampire Alucard, and had decided she never wanted to lay eyes on another vampire, so long as she lived, died, or she supposed in this world, un-died.

"Mother is in the drawing room. Go give her a kiss and make sure she thinks Arthur has a doting father," Elizabeth winced, out of surprise, when a gentle kiss met with her head. Frowning at the stolen affection, she pointed towards the hall Abraham should be taking. Now.

But Abraham dithered, smiling a little awkwardly, which Elizabeth recognized, and she raised a suspicious brow. "Is something the matter? … Do you want me to tell her you were just some visitor I had to turn away, and that my darling Brahm still continues to abandon his family-"

Abraham was already walking down the hall twiddling his scarf, while his wife stared after him. When he looked back, hesitating again, she maintained her stare. But once he'd entered the room and shut the door, she smirked to herself. And then pivoted to quickly check on their late breakfast, which had been delayed after receiving a telegram warning her of her husband's probable return. She wanted to make sure they still had some preserved peaches. Her Brahm liked her peaches. And he only liked peaches the way _she_ prepared them.


End file.
